


Blood Runs Thicker

by scandalsavage



Series: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Earth-3, Evil Jason, Evil Tim, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Underage, Infanticide, Intersex Omegas, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teen Pregnancy, birth control tampering, evil Dick, evil Wally, good-ish Slade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 07:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: He stares at the stick in his hand, at the stupid, happy pink plus sign, and runs the other through his hair, nerves frayed like the threads of an ancient rug.Jason is royally fucked.





	Blood Runs Thicker

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr ask.
> 
> This chapter isn't so bad but going forward you're probably going to want a flashlight.

Jason is royally fucked.

Or rather, he’s been _pr__esidentially _fucked and that’s why he’s so fucking screwed.

Dick must have been replacing his birth control with sugar pills again.

_Fuck._

He stares at the stick in his hand, at the stupid, happy pink plus sign, and runs the other through his hair, nerves frayed like the threads of an ancient rug.

It’s not surprising that the bastard is trying to knock him up. Dick has been trying to breed him since Thomas allowed the young Alpha to claim him two years ago. Only Thomas’s insistence that Raptor is a necessary part of the Owl’s operations has held Dick back from expressly forbidding him from taking the birth control Owlman provides. But Jason knows Thomas doesn’t care enough do anything if Dick manages to put a pup in him anyway. Will probably say it is Jason’s own fault for not noticing.

He snarls and hurls the test across his bathroom.

No, what’s surprising is that the possessive piece of shit fucked with his birth control _knowing_ what his mission had been. He knowingly sent his in-heat omega to an Alpha they had managed to drug into an early rut _without protection_.

It was all but guaranteed he’d get pregnant.

Which means Dick’s recent overbearing lurking and clinging is because he’s waiting for Jason figure it out.

_Fuck._

He squeezes his eyes shut and scratches absently at the dark scar of Dick’s claiming bite on the side of his neck, over his scent gland. There aren’t a lot of options. Not a single doctor in the Tri-state area will allow Jason Todd, Thomas Wayne, Jr.’s adopted son, to terminate without notifying Thomas. And most places won’t allow it without his mate’s permission anyway. If Dick wants a pup so fucking badly that he doesn’t care who the sire is, then Jason knows he’s not getting his consent.

Thomas won’t be any help either. He’d just say the choice belongs to Jason’s Alpha.

But there’s no way he can allow _this_ kid to be raised with the Owls.

He’d always kind of wanted children. Then Dick jumped him in the library one day, ripped his clothes open, pinned him down, looked to Thomas who just shrugged, and claimed him there on the manor floor while their pack leader watched. Jason hadn’t really liked Dick before that, and he certainly didn’t want to have his pups. Realistically, he knew he’d have to eventually. Especially once Dick proved to be so obsessed with it (which Jason suspects is more out of a desire to see the evidence of his ownership and his own virility, rather than any real desire to be a father). But those would have indisputably been _Dick’s_ and not really _his_.

This is different.

Chewing on his lip, Jason considers going to Wilson. Apparently, he’s “one of the good guys” so he could probably help get Jason the termination. And if, for some reason, he didn’t want to get rid of the evidence of their shared cycles? Well then, Wilson _is _the President of the United States. He could definitely get Jason into witness protection or something.

Only… even Raptor has tracked down people the government has tried to hide. Owlman and Talon have a lot more experience than he does. And the Syndicate are up to their elbows in everything that gives them just a scrap of power. There’s no way Jason would trust any government department, even if he could bring himself to trust President Wilson.

He’s better off just trusting himself.

Thomas is still at work. Alfred is running errands in the city. Dick is with his personal harem of juvenile Syndicate sycophants, probably shoving his knot into one of his red-headed Alpha bimbos.

If he’s gonna run, now is his chance.

If he’s gonna ever have a pup that isn’t tainted by his asshole mate, this is his chance.

After grabbing a go-bag full of clothes and cash, and disabling the trackers on his bike, he speeds out of the garage and tries not to look back. The mark on his neck stings with the knowledge that his Alpha is going to be enraged.

He obviously can’t use the equipment in the cave, but he’s going to need new identification otherwise he’ll never be able to get suppressants or even medication for his pup down the road.

Good thing the only kid at school he even kind of likes is really good at that shit.

* * *

  
“Are you sure about this, Jay? Leaving Mr. Wayne like this?”

Tim looks up from his computer earnestly. Like he’s worried about Jason’s well being.

“He’s not exactly the type to be understanding about teen pregnancy. He’s already disappointed I’m an omega. So yeah, I’m sure.”

That’s not true at all. Thomas had picked Jason in no small part due to his designation. Thought it was an asset. He wasn’t wrong. A lot of the blackmail the Owls and the Syndicate have on people is courtesy of Jason’s efforts. And while a lot of them _are _for exactly the obvious reasons, a good chuck of them are just from Jason being able to go unnoticed where Alphas are less welcome.

And Thomas almost certainly would consider his underage son carrying the President’s illegitimate pup another asset.

Tim’s brows pinch together, and Jason can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t believe him or in sympathy for his comments.

“Can’t Dick help?”

Jason can’t stop the face he makes so he goes with the truth. Mostly.

“Dick and I don’t get along. I can’t trust him to help me.”

Tim studies him for a moment before giving him a small smile and turning back to his impressive set up.

He’d probably really like the Roost, Jason thinks, looking around at all the high-tech gear.

“I’m going to give you two identities. One an omega whose mate died in one of Ultraman’s hits on Metropolis. That way you can go to a hospital to give birth and no one will ask for your mate. You can stick with that one if you want. But if you settle in somewhere, an available omega who has proven fertile won’t go unnoticed or unmolested for long. So, the second will be an Alpha whose mate died in the same tragedy. That way you only have one story to remember. I’d suggest buying scent blocker online with the Alpha ID at least. It’s not uncommon for Alpha’s to buy blockers for their mates and online no one will know that your mate is supposed to be dead.”

Jason listens to Tim chatter about the details and soaks them up. But the longer he stands here, the less likely his escape will be successful, and he can’t stop himself from getting increasingly edgy and fidgeting.

After all, the Drakes only live a couple miles away from the Waynes.

“Hey man, thank you so much for this, I really do appreciate it but—“

“But you’re running out of time to run.” Tim smiles at him. “Don’t worry. I’m almost finished.”

Something about the way Tim looks at him is kind of unnerving. But Jason supposes that’s just how he is. Tim has always come off as… overly attentive.

The younger teen gives him a final odd look as he leaves. Jason tries to restrain the shiver that runs down his spine. Tim’s a decent guy. A beta who has never seemed to care about designation. And he doesn’t know anything about Thomas being Owlman so there’s nothing to panic about.

Tim has no reason to betray him.

* * *

_One Year Later_

The twins are only a few months old, too young to actually do anything at the park. Jason just comes to get some fresh air, watch the other parents chase after their little ones, feeling a little swell of excitement when he thinks about Grant and Joseph running him around.

And maybe just a little bit of dread. They’re going to be a handful, he can tell. For infants, though, they’re well behaved. They don’t cry or scream much and they’re generally pretty happy.

Which is nice. Jason needs all the breaks he can get.

If he’s careful, the money he brought with him will last another year or so before he has to figure out what to do about a job. That’s when he’ll leave Boston for medium sized town on the west coast, carefully avoiding anywhere the Syndicate has or wants a presence. Whether the other members suspect or not, the Owls _do_ monitor all their territory. That’s when he’ll break out the Alpha ID Tim gave him, give himself a degree in Library Sciences, and hunker down with a decent job and live a quiet life with his boys.

They look like him. Mostly. Joey’s blond which Jason thinks is funny because, if he had bothered to think about it at all, he probably wouldn’t have pictured Wilson light-haired. But both pups have Jason’s aquamarine eyes.

He stops by the corner shop on his way home to grab some eggs and milk. It only takes a couple minutes.

It’s just paranoia, he thinks, as he leaves the store, door jingling merrily behind him, and a flicker of movement catches his eye on the roof of the building across the street.

Probably just a bird.

But Jason is already mentally sorting through his shit, deciding if there’s anything missing from the pre-packed duffels that will allow him to flee quickly or if he can just leave everything else behind.

It was probably a harmless bird. But on the off chance the bird was an Owl… well, Jason isn’t taking chances.

He turns on his security as soon as he steps through the door to his apartment. It isn’t nearly as comprehensive as he’d like but it’s all he could do on his budget and without drawing too much attention.

It won’t buy him much time (if any) but that’s ok. He hasn’t forgotten any of Owlman’s rules. Never become complacent. He just has to grab the cash out of the hiding spot, toss it in one of the two go-bags (one for him, one for the pups), and bolt out the hidden exit behind the bookcase in the living room. He had built it himself when he first moved in, part of why he picked this place. It leads to the barely used storeroom of the bookstore next door.

The twins are fast asleep, so he leaves them in the stroller for now. He’ll move them to the front-back carrier right before he leaves so that he can be more mobile.

Darting down the hall and collecting his shit takes all of a single minute. Maybe ninety seconds.

There’s no possible way it could have happened any faster. Short of keeping all of it on him at all times (not even an option with that much cash), there’s no way it could have been more efficient.

But it’s not enough.

The familiar scent of warmed vanilla and nutmeg tinged with the coppery tang of blood smacks Jason in the face before he even turns the corner.

His heart drops into his stomach and his stomach drops out from under him.

Time seems to slow as his eyes travel slowly from the stroller, one pup short, up the lean lines of snug black Kevlar weave, gold metal accents, and knife after knife. Until they rest on his precious Grant, cradled gently in the arms of a fully suited Talon.

Jason watches in shocked horror as his son gums at the hilt of one of the assassins throwing knives, slobbering all over the weapon that has undoubtedly killed at least one person. One little hand is wrapped around the handle, the other clings to one of Talon’s fingers as the Alpha coos down at the little bundle.

His mouth goes dry. He doesn’t dare to even breathe.

“What ar—”

“Hush, little wing,” Dick purrs without bothering to look up at him. Jason’s whole body shudders in response, the bite on his neck that he had all but forgotten about stings with the weight of the command. “You don’t want to wake our pups.”

The snarl that tears past Jason’s lips is as vicious as any Alpha’s. He can smell his own scent bloom; spiced apple, fresh baked bread turned sharp in anger and protectiveness.

He’s been so distracted he didn’t even notice the other presence in the apartment. The other scent, vague, barely there, and almost entirely nonthreatening.

Until someone behind him swipes his legs out and he crashes to his knees.

He bites back the yelp of surprise and pain. He’s not so rusty that he’s willing to show them any weakness.

The stranger moves into view, careful to keep Jason at the end of his staff.

Jason’s stomach flips again and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Raptor stands in front of him. Unmistakable in _Jason’s_ fucking suit. If there are any alterations, the effect is negligible.

He’s been _replaced_.

Not just his opening in the organization and the pack. When Jason filled Dick’s old spot in the hierarchy, he didn’t get Dick’s name. It was never even a conversation.

This is definitely a statement.

The kid—because he looks at least a couple years younger than Jason—doesn’t take his eyes off him. Jason squints up the staff at him. There’s something familiar about the intense set of the new Raptor’s face. The slight curl of his lips seems almost… excited.

Jason shifts his weight, ready to see what his replacement is made of, when Dick growls. A low, warning rumble, as he bounces Grant a little while he sways.

“You should consider staying right where you are, little wing. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to our son now, would we?”

Dick says the last sentence in a sing-song voice, smiling down at the infant.

“He’s not _your _son,” Jason snarls at him, snapping his teeth, “Neither of them are.”

He wants to say, “And they never will be” or “I won’t let you have them” or even “Please just leave us alone”. But he doesn’t. It’d be pointless. Dick has his pup and Jason won’t jeopardize his child.

They’ve found him. That’s it. Game over.

They’ll be able to keep him forever now.

He has two pups. That makes one of them expendable.

Finally Dick looks at him, all bright cheerfulness without any warmth. It’s cold and the new kid feels cold too. Jason had always run hot and passionate to their cool and indifferent. They must be a perfect fucking team, them and Thomas.

“_You’re_ mine, Jay. My omega, my mate. Anything that’s yours, belongs to me,” Dick says casually, sauntering over to sit in the armchair to Jason’s left, next to the newbie.

Following his gaze, Dick laughs. “Would you like to meet the new, improved Raptor? He’s been _aching_ to meet _you_.”

“Fuck off.”

Dick’s expression freezes with his lips slightly upturned, eyes hard and cruel.

“Come here, little wing.” His words are soft and gentle, like he’s speaking to a lover. But he shifts Grant meaningfully in his arms, shushing him with the low, comforting rumble of a sire, when he whines and fidgets.

It makes Jason sick to his stomach in a very real way. He barely manages to swallow down the reflexive upheaval.

But the warning works and he does as he’s told; crawls over to kneel in front of his ‘mate’.

“Take off your shirt.”

Jason glares at his stupid smiling face for a moment before grimacing and ripping the garment over his head. It’s harder to look up after that. To meet Dick’s eyes or Raptor’s lenses. His chest is still swollen with milk for his pups. It feels like an invasion. So, he keeps his eyes on the rug.

At least until Dick hums in appreciation and reaches out to take a nipple between chilly thumb and forefinger. Then Jason screws his eyes shut and tries to keep himself from hyperventilating as Dick rolls the nub until it hardens, then widens his grip and pinches and tugs until Jason feels milk leak out and drip down.

Raptor’s breath catches at the same time Dick chuckles darkly. Jason feels his cheeks and ears heat with the attention.

“So dirty,” Dick mutters, scooping up the couple drops of milk and pressing the fingers to Jason’s lips, making him flinch, “Have you ever tasted yourself, Jay?”

He jerks away. Or tries to. But Raptor’s a stealthy bastard and managed to get behind him without Jason noticing. His replacement uses both hands to hold his head in place while Dick grips his jaw and shoves the digits into his mouth.

They wipe against his tongue before curling deep, dragging along the roof of his mouth, toying with his tongue, tapping against his teeth. Jason almost gags with how rough Dick is pushing into his throat.

Eventually he gets bored with that and when he removes his hand, he promptly grabs Jason by neck, nails digging painfully into the faded scar that marks his claim and hauls him closer. Jason barely catches himself as he tips forward. When he looks back up, it’s directly into dark blue irises, void of emotion.

“This is Tim. He tells us you go way back. Went to school together.” Dick twists his face to the side so he can watch as Raptor removes _his _mask. Jason growls when Tim Drake smiles down at him. It looks almost genuine, even with the empty eyes. Dick’s hold tightens and his face lights up. He seems to take a great deal of delight in Jason’s anger as he continues. “He convinced us to let him join up by saying he could help track you down.”

“He didn’t have to _track _me down,” Jason snorts, not bothering to hide the bitterness and anger absolutely clear in his tone. It’s not like he had particularly trusted Tim. He just hadn’t had many options. But it’s also fucking clear that Tim had never really intended to help him at all. And if Jason’s going down, he might as well take the prick with him. “He’s the one who helped me get away.”

But then Dick just chuckles again, and it strikes Jason why the owls wouldn’t give a damn. “He already came clean, little wing. Remember how Owlman found you boosting his tires? And instead of leaving your body in the alley with your insides out, he saw all that potential hidden away inside you? Owls admire initiative and we don’t dispose of useful things.”

With jolt, he’s facing his mate again. There’s hunger in that gaze. And Dick has a dangerous appetite.

“Tim wants to fuck you,” he purrs, breath hot across Jason’s face making him shiver, “And since you’re my property, I’m gonna let him. It’s his reward. For being a good packmate.”

Shuffling sounds come from behind him. The rustle of fabric, clink of metal, the squelch of something wet.

Jason tenses and a low, angry growl starts, deep in his chest. But the Alpha just squeezes down on his throat harder, pulls his face even closer.

“Be good bitch and roll over for me,” Dick hisses.

Jason’ upper lip curls in a sneer. But his gaze falls on Grant, still tucked to Dick’s hip, the pup’s big, clear eyes watching him; knows a struggle will put the babe at risk.

A shudder wracks his body as he wills himself to relax. Forces himself drop his chin to his chest and press his cheek to his shoulder, baring his neck for his Alpha.

Dick rumbles his approval like Jason needs it and leans forward. Jason closes his eyes again as teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of his throat. Tim’s arms wind around his waist, deftly undo his jeans, and push both the pants and his underwear down to his knees.

Then Dick’s teeth latch onto him, dig deep into the older mark, until Jason can’t hold back his pained cry when they break through his skin. The warm stream of blood drips down his collar bone, down to his sore and swollen chest.

He _hates _the feelings of home and pack and mate that come with the unwanted claim. He _despises _that the feeling doesn’t change the way he thinks just the way his body responds. It’d be so much easier to live with if his brain had the same desires as his body.

A whine has been building for a while now. A deeply pathetic, distressed omega thing and he hates that too. But he doesn’t hold it back anymore. He lets himself have this. He’ll never be free again and if that’s not worth a sound he’s not sure what would be.

Firm hands pull his asscheeks apart. Jason flinches violently when dry thumbs tug at his rim before one presses into his hole experimentally.

Dick laughs when Jason instinctively tries to get away and shoves him down, pushing his face into the floor while Tim makes sure his hips stay in the air.

“You thought he’d take your cunt didn’t you, baby?”

The Alpha’s hand leaves and even though Jason isn’t going to move, a foot lands on his head, heel digging into his cheek, toe poking at his fresh wound.

“No, little wing, that’s all mine. From now on, anyone else I let touch you can have any hole they want and do whatever they want to it. But your cunt is just for me. And our future pups.”

Tim slams into him without warning, without preparation, without giving him any time to adjust. One moment there’s a thumb inside him, so little stimulation that he hardly notices past the awful things Dick says, the next a cock is splitting him open as it spears it to the hilt.

All the air leaves him in a rush. Like it’s punched out of him.

Tim just grips his hips and sets a punishing pace.

Jason gets very little pleasure from it. Every blink-and-you’ll-miss-it brush against his prostate is obviously unintentional as Tim chases an orgasm.

Soon tears sting at the corners of Jason’s eyes as Tim thrusts into carelessly, panting and grunting over him like he isn’t even there. Whatever lube the beta used isn’t enough. The slide of Tim’s cock against his walls burns as the lube is worn out. Jason is no stranger to this; he’s had both Thomas and Dick pounding away at his ass before. It’s just been a while. With no prep, the ache spreads up the path Tim is drilling into him.

“How’s he feel, Timmy?” Dick asks, voice low and husky.

Tim is breathless when he answers. “Tight. Fuck, Dick, he’s so damn tight. Every—every time I push into him, he clenches and it’s—it’s… _ah_… so good. Like he’s trying to squeeze the come out of me.”

Humiliation washes through him hot and red and his body my flush because the Alpha laughs again, puts more weight on the foot pressing Jason’s face into the rug and says, “Red always was your color, babe.”

Finally, after an agonizingly long time, Tim’s pace stutters. He groans, hammers into Jason’s body a dozen more times, fast enough to give a speedster a run for their money, sighs, and slowly slides deep into the tight warmth of Jason’s hole as he comes.

Only Tim’s cock doesn’t stop where it should. What Jason thinks is the flat of Tim’s hips keeps going.

“Wai—wait,” he gasps, reaching back only to have his wrists caught up and pinned to the small of his back. “No… you’re… you’re…”

The wide bulge at the base of Tim’s dick starts to force its way past his rim. Knots are about the size of the owner’s fist and Tim’s may not be as big as Thomas’s or even Dick’s, but Jason hasn’t taken a knot at all in over a year. It’s been… longer since someone knotted his ass.

“Huh. He really did think you were a beta.” Dick huffs above him, so far away, so indifferent to Jason’s discomfort and distress. It floods Jason’s system with chemicals that tell him he needs to be good, be better, so that his Alpha will care.

Jason sobs into the rug as the thickest part stretches him open. When it finally pops in, Tim sighs again and pats Jason’s ass hard enough to sting.

As Tim catches his breath, Dick takes his foot off Jason’s head, leans over and gently guides the omega up to his hands.

Then the Alpha cups Jason’s face, gazes into his eyes with a brilliant smile, and wipes away the salty tracks of tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Now,” he purrs, letting the lower register of his Alpha voice rumble comfortingly. And Jason is so tired and sore and _hurt_ that he reacts to the positive tone with a desperate whimper. “Let’s get you home, little wing. I want to have you chained to my bed when I fill you full of _my _pups.”


End file.
